


Last Stage to Red Rock

by thedevilchicken



Category: The Hateful Eight (2015)
Genre: M/M, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Over and over, they meet at the last stage to Red Rock. That's given Chris some time to think.
Relationships: Chris Mannix/Marquis Warren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: Past Imperfect Future Unknown 2019





	Last Stage to Red Rock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PositivelyVexed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PositivelyVexed/gifts).



The first time they died was pretty fucking bad, Chris can't deny it. Ain't no one in the world wants to bleed out in a chilly goddamn shack right in the middle of no-fucking-where, snowed in so there ain't no way in hell help's getting there in time so you could really call it _help_ at all. That was, however, where they found themselves. Of course, he'd no way of knowing that was maybe the best that they could hope for, given circumstances so completely and utterly beyond all their control. Of course, he'd no way of knowing the end wouldn't be the end.

When he woke in the snow, outside the stage he knew had John Ruth and Major Marquis sitting tight inside it with that no good Daisy Domergue, when he woke standing there right around the point freezing his goddamn balls off (though hell, it's gotta be better than them getting shot), it made no goddamn sense. He'd been there before. He'd seen that place before. He'd said those words and smiled those smiles and charmed his way inside before. But the major voiced no objections, not like he had the first time. He major said no-goddamn-thing at all about Chris's daddy or the sheriff's badge that was awaiting him in Red Rock. He told John Ruth, "Just let him in so we can get on going," so John Ruth did. They went on their way. And while the Hangman talked and Daisy scowled, he and Major Marquis tried so damn hard not to eyeball each other that they nearly strained something.

It was in the snow at Minnie's - again - that they finally got to talking. 

"We've met before, Chris Mannix," the major said, as his teeth began to chatter. "Ain't that right?"

"I do believe we have," Chris replied. When he stepped in close, the snow whipping up in the air, Major Marquis didn't stop him. When he clapped one gloved hand to the major's crotch and gave a squeeze, he just raised his brows at that and didn't flinch. 

"Something you want from me, boy?" he asked. 

"Just checking you was present and correct downstairs," Chris said, and with a real obvious downwards flick of his gaze, he took his hand back. "Last that I recall, you was a lesser man that way."

The major nodded curtly. Chris nodded in reply. Turned out he weren't the only one remembered blood, and the smell of powder on the air, or Jody Domergue being underneath the floor. Turned out he weren't the only one not in such a goddamn hurry to get in out of the snow, even howling as it was. But, in the end, they went inside. 

Even knowing what they knew, they didn't get too far. Even keeping to themselves, that didn't work. They peppered the goddamn floorboards with gunfire and when Jody came out with all guns blazing, Grouch and English Pete and fucking Señor Bob (or whatever silly fucking thing he called himself) all joined on in. Major Marquis was dead before he hit the floor and Chris joined him forty seconds after, and then they was back out at the stage again. 

"Fuck this," Chris said, and he turned around and marched out in the snow. He froze to death not too long after, which he guessed was kinda his own damn fault. 

"Fuck this," he said the next time, and he shot poor O.B. dead right where he sat. When John Ruth stuck his head out, sorta foolishly, he shot him too. He shot Daisy through the window. Major Marquis raised his brows at him as he was wiping her blood off of his face. 

"That make you feel better?" the major asked.

"Not so much," Chris replied. 

Major Marquis kicked open the door. Once they'd wrestled out the corpses, Chris got up inside. 

"Just what the fuck is going on here, Major?" Chris asked him. 

"I sure as hell ain't got a clue," the major replied. "But if we don't move, chances are we're freezing where we sit." 

"I did that once already. It don't come highly recommended." 

The major nodded. They got back out. Turned out without O.B. at the reins, driving through the goddamn blizzard weren't no easy concept; they got themselves lost and in the white-out, in the freezing cold, their goddamn pistols wouldn't even fire. In the end, they froze, huddled in the carriage like two stupid fucking fucks. Then he was standing in the snow again. It felt a whole lot like he hadn't been warm in weeks.

When the door opened, Major Marquis had already throttled the life out of John Ruth and then shot up Daisy Domergue, or maybe that was the other way around. O.B. took them to Minnie's. Without Daisy and the Hangman, they figured maybe Jody and his boys didn't need to make a scene, but some-fucking-thing set them off again. Chris was sick of the sight of the stage, but there it was again. 

The next time, they shot Grouch and English Pete and Señor Bob and Jody didn't make it up out of the cellar; John Ruth shot them both just in case they shot him next. 

The next time, they knocked John Ruth out cold first then turned on Jody's gang. Sandy Smithers put a bullet in the major's thigh and hoo-boy if it didn't spurt just like a fountain all the way across the room. He swore a streak almost blue enough to make Chris blush as he bled out on the floor, and all Chris could think to say was, "Well, at least this time it ain't your nethers." 

The major laughed. "You sure have an interest in my big black balls, Chris Mannix," he said, and gave the general area a squeeze for punctuation. "Tell me: is it you feel inadequate?" 

He struggled one hand down between Chris's thighs and squeezed there just like he'd squeezed himself. Chris blanched. It felt a whole lot like his blood rushed out just like the major's had, except what it did was rush down between his legs instead of out onto the floor. And while he was distracted, Major Marquis put his pistol underneath Chris's chin and fired it before he could say a word. He woke up at the stage again. 

"You shot me!" he yelled, he shouted, he goddamn exclaimed, through the stage's goddamn window. John Ruth waved his guns around, but neither of them paid him no mind.

"You think I'm letting you be the only one that lives?" the major replied. 

Then John Ruth shot him in the shoulder and left him in the snow. He was pretty sure he didn't deserve it, but he woke up at the stage again. 

"You know, I don't think we're getting out of here," Chris said, that time, once they got to Minnie's. 

The major shrugged. He knocked John Ruth out and Chris cold-cocked General Smithers. When Jody's gang was dead and they was both shot again like always, they dragged themselves to the bed, pissed off and leaning on each other. They lay down and bled and when Chris unbuckled the major's belt with a lump in his throat, he let him. When he shoved his hand down the front of his pants to get him out, like it made any sense, he let him do that, too. He died with Marquis Warren's cock in his mouth, and somehow that seemed just fine and dandy. 

"How many times is this?" Chris asks, this time, now this time's drawing to an end. 

The major shrugs and says, "Hell if I know. You were keeping count?"

"Not really, no." 

"Yeah, well neither was I." 

Chris sighs. He closes his eyes. He's lost so much blood that he can't get it up, but that don't mean the major's hand around his cock don't feel real nice anyhow. It's a crying shame Chris has to put the knife between his shoulderblades and spoil it, but that's just the way things are.

"Motherfucker," Major Marquis says, but there ain't no real sting to it. When Chris laughs, he laughs, and they lie together bleeding with their hands shoved down each other's pants. It's tough to tell which blood's his and which is the major's but he figured out a while ago it just don't matter which is which. He figured something else out, too.

He don't know how long it's been since the first time the stage to Red Rock came to Minnie's, but it's given him some time to ponder on the situation. It's given them some time to talk it through. And maybe they don't _know_ , but that don't mean he ain't pretty sure what's going on here: he's pretty sure only one of the two of them's meant to make it out alive. He's pretty sure that they both know it. 

He's pretty sure either it's him or the major. But fuck that, he thinks; he sure as hell ain't giving up yet.


End file.
